Gemotions

The old house felt hollow, a shell of what it once was. Their grandmother's scent was faint now, a ghost. Samuel, feeling the emptiness, reached to touch a photo on a mantelpiece and accidentally knocked it down.

His sister, Jessica, let out a noise, somewhere between a sigh and a scoff, as she righted the picture. He had always been clumsy, she had always been graceful, and this was just another reminder.

He knew what she was thinking: he was the one who always made a mess. He was the one who couldn't be trusted. Even now, here, he seemed to be making things difficult.

He felt a wave of frustration, a tight knot in his stomach. He didn't want to break anything. He didn't want to make things worse. He wanted to be helpful.

“Maybe we should just… get rid of it all,” he said, his voice barely audible.